ColdHearted Amore
by EpicNinjaSushi
Summary: High School AU. Antonio is concerned when he discovers out a boy in his Math Class is less than happy about a snow day. On a whim, he decides to "stalk him", as a less than happy Southern Italian would put it. Spamano.
1. Stalking

Antonio Carriedo was incredibly grateful when an announcement interrupted his math class. He was even happier when it was declared school was cancelled for the rest of that Friday, and that they would have at least a three day weekend.

Through the cheers, shouts, and generally obnoxious sounds of happiness, Antonio heard a muttered, and heavily accented "I fucking hate this town."

A normal person would have ignored a complete stranger's disappointment or unhappiness, but Antonio was abnormally nice to a point of creepiness, and caring enough to little kids to be labeled as a pedophile (in a joking sense, of course).

It was only right to assume that the one who had said such words was the only one left in the classroom who wasn't talking to someone or hurrying their way out the door. He was still gathering his things, taking his time, by the looks of it.

He approached the distressed boy. "Hola, _amigo_!" Antonio said, and smiled, "Why are you not excited for the long weekend? The snow is great, no?"

The boy, taken aback from the question, grabbed his belongings and shoved him out of the way rather rudely, intent on getting away from the stranger.

"Hey, wait!" Antonio called to the back of the boy's head.

The boy turned around and faced him with angry, glaring, golden-brown eyes. "What the hell do you want with me, bastard?" He answered with a very strong Italian accent.

"I just wanna know why you aren't happy like every on else; there's no reason to be so sad! I mean, you can do so much stuff, like hang out with your friends, or-" He was cut off.

"I have to find my brother, bastard. Don't talk to me." And the angry little Italian boy walked off to his locker, pushing past the people who got in his way. Once he was halfway there, Antonio (who had begun to follow him) decided to speak up again.

"Hey, what's your name?"

Very slowly, the boy looked up from his lock and up into Antonio's eyes, with so much rage, disgust, and hate, Antonio didn't think it was all real. "My name is Lovino Vargas. Now leave me the fuck alone, or I swear to God I'll mother-fucking-"

"Ve, _fratello_, there you are! We should start to walk home now, before the storm gets too bad." Another boy had come up; apparently Lovino's brother. They looked similar enough, both with brown eyes and hair, with a little stray curl sticking out, but their personality seemed completely different to Antonio. Lovino's brother seemed to be someone who spent much of their time smiling; the opposite of Lovino. He didn't seem fazed by Lovino's... language at all.

"Feliciano," Lovino said, turning away from his locker to his brother, "You can go ahead. I'll catch up, after I can get this freaking bastard to leave me the hell alone."

"Okay! I'll see you at home, Lovi!" And Feliciano turned and skipped down the hall, humming to himself loudly. Lovino watched as he bumped into a tall blonde guy, one of the few people still in the hallway. They began to chat as they exited the school together.

Antonio casually leaned against the locker next to Lovino's. "So, Lovi, can I walk with you?"

Lovino, who was packed up now, slammed his locker shut and punched him in the gut. It looked painful, the way he had done it all in one swift movement and had screamed "Don't fucking call me that!", but to Antonio's shock -and mild amusement- it didn't.

"You didn't answer my question." he said, and smiled more.

"You know what? I don't give a shit what you do. You're as annoying as hell."

"_Gracias_. For letting me walk with you, I mean."

Lovino glared at him again. "You have to go to your locker, still." he huffed.

"Oh, _si_! I forgot; talking with you is so distracting!"

"You're an idiot."

Antonio grinned. "I think you've been having a bad day, _amigo_."

"Shut up, before I hurt you."

"I don't think you could do that."

Lovino didn't answer.

* * *

About fifteen minutes later (most of that time was spent by Antonio trying to figure out his locker combination) they were outside, now able to clearly see why school had been cancelled. The flaky snow was being whipped around by the wind, and it had piled up on the frozen ground to nearly two feet. Despite the harsh conditions outdoors, they talked while they walked towards their neighborhood. Or rather, Antonio was mindlessly babbling as Lovino folded his arms to his chest and stared and the snowy sidewalk.

"Hey, Lovi." Lovino cringed at the nickname.

He looked up to meet Antonio's bright green eyes. "_Sí_? What do you want?"

"How come I've never seen you before? I mean, it's already halfway through the school year and everything."

"Well, I don't know why a bastard like you would care, but I just moved here last Saturday."

"Really? That's so cool, I wish I got to move more often. But I only did it once, from Spain. Where did you come from, exactly?"

"_Italia_. In Naples. Are you really that much of an idiot that you couldn't figure that out from my voice?"

Antonio laughed lightly. "No, no, I could figure it out. So, you and your brother probably miss living there, right?"

"My _fratello _has only been to Naples twice." Lovino said, bitterness strung throughout his voice.

"Huh? But I thought you said-"

"I know what I said, bastard!" Lovino cut off, rather loudly and sharply. "My _fratello_ lived with our grandpa in Milano. I was in a foster care system until three months ago, when they figured out I existed. Then I was adopted, and then I moved here, which was probably the worst thing that could ever happen to me. I was taken away from my whole life, practically, and shoved up to the Northern part of Italia to live with them, and then my grandpa decides to move to America, which was really, really stupid."

Antonio, for once, was unsure of what to say. He stuck with something simple and meaningless. "Oh."

The two trudged down the sidewalk in awkward silence for a bit, until Lovino said something to the ground he was still staring at -a question for Antonio. "When did you move here from Spain?"

Antonio heard him clearly enough. "Four years ago, when I was in sixth grade. I always go back to _Espania _for Christmas and the summer, though."

It was quiet again for another few moments, until Lovino suddenly said a curt "_Ciao, _bastard." and turned down a street.

Antonio, without thinking, ran after him, and put his hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"What the hell are you doing, bastard?" Lovino spun around to face him.

"Lovi," started Antonio started, still not fazed by Lovino's words. "You wanna walk into town with me?"

"What?"

"Oh, I forgot, you're really kinda new here, aren't you? The city's downtown area is really close to our school, so sometimes people will walk up there after school, you know? So I was asking if you'd wanna do that with me."

"Don't you remember me hating the snow, idiot?"

"Aw, c'mon!" Antonio pleaded. "It'll be nice; we don't have to stay long, or anything!"

"No."

"We could go inside, or something. There's this really nice café I know about, and-"

"I said no, idiot! Just leave me alone." and Lovino made to start walking again.

"Please, _amigo_?"

Lovino didn't stop.

"At least let me walk with you the rest of the way to your house?" Antonio was beginning to beg.

Lovino quickened his pace.

"_Por favor_, Lovi?"

Lovino managed to sigh loudly through all of the wind and snow blowing round him, no less, and slowly turned around to face Antonio. "Listen, I'll give you my phone number, and you can stalk me from there. Just for God's sake, leave me alone!"

"Oh, _gracias_, Lovino!" Antonio was smiling quite broadly, again. "I can text you, right?"

"_Sí_, bastard. But it's not like I want you to, or anything." Lovino said, as he tapped in his number to Antonio's cell phone. When he was done, he thrust it out to Antonio like it was a disgusting piece of garbage he wanted him to throw away.

"_Gracias,_ Lovi!" Antonio called to Lovino, who was speed-walking away already.

"Don't fucking call me that, bastard!" was hardly audible as a particularly loud gust of wind blew past, but Antonio heard, and smiled some more.

* * *

This should make sense. I think.

**Enough for me to at least try and post it.**

**Any-who, for clarification and such, it is highschool, in January, and it is winter. It is cold.**

**Review, please, and I update every Friday. :D**


	2. Text Me Maybe

**A/N: SO SHORT. I'M SORRY. THEY GET LONGER.**

* * *

When Lovino finally got to his house, a large pale brick building with a long driveway that was just plain annoying to walk up, the storm had gotten considerably worse than it had been before, and he walked in wit pink cheeks and a much more unpleasant mood than he'd been in when Feliciano had last seen him at school.

"Hey, Lovino! Ve~, Grandpa and I were getting really worried about you. Why did you get home so late?" he called from the kitchen, where he was making dough for something that was almost certainly pasta.

"A bastard was stalking me, remember?"

"Oh, Antonio? That's my friend Ludwig's brother's friend, I think. Is he nice?"

Lovino scowled at his brother's knack for gaining instant popularity. "Why the hell would you ask me that? How the fuck could he be 'nice' if he was stalking me?"

"Well, maybe he just want you to be his friend."

"Feli, I worry about you. Do you really think I would be friends with someone who followed me home?"

"I'd be friends with someone that followed me!" Feliciano perked up. "Actually, I'd be just about anybody's friend."

"That's because you're an idiot." Was Lovino's immediate response. But he softened it up with "And you're kinda cute." Lovino walked into the kitchen where his brother was working. "What are you making?"

"Spaghetti alla Carrettiera. You wanna help?"

"Nah, I'm not as good at that sort of stuff as you. I'll just go do homework... or something. By the way, where's Grandpa?"

"He said he was going to be at some work thing; he should be back by tomorrow morning, I think."

"He's probably just hitting on the girls again." Lovino muttered as he climbed up the stairs.

* * *

Lovino's house turned out to be on the opposite side of town from his own, so it took Antonio another half-hour of trudging through almost knee-deep snow to get back to where he lived.

"I'm home!" he shouted, as soon as he flung open the door. There was no reply.

"I guess everyone's doing something." he mused aloud. He stripped off his coat and shoes and placed them by a heater to dry. He wandered around his house for a bit, out of pure boredom, until his phone vibrated in his back pocket. He pulled it out; it was Francis, texting him.

"_salut, antoine. whose the new friend i saw you walking with?_"

Antonio replied with "his names Lovi. hes really cute" and scrolled through his other messages while he waited to see if Francis would reply back. Gilbert appeared to be spamming him again, with pictures of one word of picture per message of nothing of significance.

He chose a picture of Gilbird, who you could guess was Gilbert's pet chick, eating some snow to respond to.

"_Haha, he isnt bothered by the cold?_"

Moments later, Antonio received "_nein, he seems to really like it. Its weird, youd think hed be relate to Ivan or something._"

The Ivan Gilbert was talking about was a slightly creepy Russian Junior who never seemed to be bothered by the cold. When he was asked about this, he would usually say something like "Back in Russia, this is very normal. It is really very warm here, da? I am liking living here." And punctuate it with a smile.

"Here" was Hetalia, a small, Northern Illinois city with the strangest and most diverse inhabitants ever. Or at least, that's what everyone who visited said.

That reminded Antonio of Lovino. "I wonder how he's doing." he said to himself as he searched through his contact list "_hola lovi, how do you like living here?_"

In response, Antonio got "y_ou couldnt wait to text me, could you bastard? Like I said, i hate this town, and dont call me that_"

Antonio grinned. "You know, its kind of funny when he's angry. Almost cute." he said, thinking out loud again.

* * *

"Ve~, dinner is ready, Lovino!" Feliciano shouted up the stairs to his brother.

From behind his bedroom door, Lovino called back, "I'm not hungry." which was a lie.

Twenty minutes later, Feliciano announced he was going to take a siesta, and Lovino waited until he could hear his brother's soft snores before going on a Tomato Raid.

When he was done, and all evidence was erased, he re-entered his room, to find that he had five new texts on his phone, which he'd left on his bed.

He didn't even check them, knowing who they were all from.

Instead, he followed Feliciano's excellent example and slept for seventeen consecutive hours, until eleven o'clock the next day.

* * *

**A/N: And so concludes our not-so exciting second chapter! See you next Friday!**

**And remember, reviews are awesomeness in type format.**


End file.
